It's Going To Be Ok
by Jadewing47
Summary: Gwen's parents are gone for the first week of Christmas break. One night, Peter comes to her house injured. But he is way worse than Gwen thought. Can Gwen save Peter, or will he die? Rated T for blood, injuries, and severally hurt Peter.
1. Chapter 1

I sat on the uncomfortable desk chair, typing away at the last paragraph of my History essay, the keys making furious clicks as I slammed on them. I just wanted to get this _over_ with. My parents were off on a business trip for the week, and I had the house to myself. Normally I would have called Peter by now, but I had to finish the report or else I would be stuck with having to do it over break. Christmas break was officially the day after tomorrow, and I did _not_ intend on spending my first week (home alone) on Christmas break doing homework. So I had gotten it all done today, except for this last stupid paragraph.

I shivered. It was cold in my room, but I didn't feel like getting up to turn the thermostat up. I figured after my homework was completed I would call Peter and ask, no, _demand_ him to come over after he was finished with whatever Spidey business he was doing. I shivered again, though this time not from the cold, but from fear. Peter was out there, most likely fighting crime, in the 14 degree weather. Although he did seem to like the cold ... which was probably a side affect from his Spidey powers. Either way Peter would just turn the thermostat back down when he got here. So there was really no point. I blinked. Had I really just spent 5 minutes thinking about how Peter liked the cold?

Shaking my head, I turned back to my computer, clicking away. A couple minutes later, there were 3 loud bangs at the window, that sounded like they had came from Peter's head. I rolled my eyes, then gestured for Peter to come in. Without taking my eyes of computer, I began to scold him for coming in from the window, and not from the door like a normal person. Which was ironic, because he wasn't a normal person. No, Peter was just a _very_ cute guy who happened to both be my boyfriend, and the city's spider-vigilante, though I didn't say that outloud.

Now finished with my History essay, I saved the document and closed the computer window. Turning around in my desk chair, I grinned, expecting to find Peter standing there, smiling back at me, ready to spend the week together like we had discussed. (after the last day of school of course) Instead I was met with no one. I blinked, standing up and walking to the window, dread beginning to boil in my stomach, hoping this was just one of Peter's stupid jokes. Peter was crowched by the window, still in the other side of the glass. I couldn't see much of his face in the dark, but I could see his spandex suit, muscles showing. He had his mask off and a blue backpack on, leaning against the window. I frowned. Had I locked it? I don't remember doing so. I had always made sure to keep it unlocked for Peter. So why wasn't he coming in? It was too cold for him to be outside...

I pushed open the window, blinking as a gust of freezing cold wind entered my room.

"Peter?" I asked. His soft, chocolate brown eyes turned to me, though they were clouded and distant, filled with pain. He gave a half-hearted smile.

"Hey." Peter whispered. Now that I could see his face, I realized it was blue with cold. I reached up, touching his forehead, and then shrinking back, alarmed at how cold he was. Scratch that, he felt like dry ice.

"Peter you're freezing! Come here." I murmured. I grabbed his arm, clearing the stuff off the table underneath the window on my side, and helping to pull him in. One he was in, I let go of his arm, closing the windows, drawing the windows, and turning the thermostat high up, hoping it would warm Peter up a little. I bit my lip, knowing that Peter could have died had he not come here. Turning back to Peter, my alarm grew. He was leaning against the wall for support, shaking violently, his eyes closed and his face scrunched up in pain, his breathing was harsh and forced. He was obviously in a great deal of pain. I rushed over to him.

"Peter, what happened?" I cried, gripping his shoulders, I slowly helped lower him to the floor. Taking in the rips in the chest of his suit, I gingerly reached up to take a look. He pressed himself into the wall, shrinking away from me.

"Gwen don't-" but was cut off when my fingers made contact with his skin. His body jerked backwards, and he slammed his head in the wall as he forcefully turned it away from me, crying out in pain. He brought one leg up, using it as a shield from his chest, while the other remained limp on the ground.

"You should see the other guy." Peter gasped. "The other guy... in this instance being a giant mutant lizard." He continued, groaning in pain. I shook my head at him, cupping his cute, innocent face with my hands. He was still freezing, and that startled me into action.

"Come on, we need to get you fixed up, I said, noticing the thick crimson liquid staining his suit and beginning to trickle down his chest. His leg was bleeding too, on the calf and thigh. Noticing me staring, he murmured, "Officer got a lucky shot...two lucky ones." His speech was beginning to slur. Probably from blood loss and from being out in the cold for so long..maybe shock? He had texted me before he left, at 5:00pm, and it was now 11:30pm. I rubbed his back soothingly.

"Come on, let's get you comfortable." I whispered.

I got my arm around his back, and helped him up. He screamed as his torso suddenly straightened, and the unexpected weight from his injured leg hitting the floor. I supported him, draping his arm around my shoulders, rubbing circles on his muscular shoulder with my thumb, letting him breathe through the pain as he leaned against me.

"Ready?" I murmured. He nodded, and I helped him walk, very slowly, to my bed. Using my free hand, I draped a towel over the bed, then gently lay Peter down on it. He winced, but otherwise stayed silent. I'm pretty sure he's exhausted, both from the pain and the fight he's obviously had. I grabbed another towel and lay it at the end of the bed under his legs, so that he doesn't get blood on my bed. I don't think I can explain why there is blood on my sheets to my parents, so it's best to avoid that conversation. I pick up his backpack and set it on my dresser table. I look back to Peter. One hand is pressing weakly on the bullet wound on his thigh, while the other is reaching for his calf. But he can't reach that wound. He tries to move his leg so that he can reach, so he can try and dull the pain, even if it's just a little, but moving his leg send spasms of pain throughout his body and his back arches in a silent scream, causing the pain from his chest wounds to intensify. Tears began to spill from his sad, chocolate brown eyes, and that's when I realize this is more serious than I thought.


	2. Chapter 2

"Hey shhh." I murmured, crouching down next to Peter, running my fingers through his messy hair.

"Look at me Peter, stay with me." My voice growing slightly panicked. He slowly brought his gaze to meet mine.

"It hurts." Peter moaned, then closely followed by " 'M sorry." I kissed his forehead softy.

"Why? Why are you sorry? I asked.

"Cause I'm not strong...not strong enough. It's just a scratch." He murmured.

"And two gun shots. You're strong Peter. I need to help you though. I'll be right back, I'm going to get some stuff to make you feel better." I whispered, still stroking his hair. He nodded slightly. I rushed out of my room and returned quickly with a large and extremely heavy first aid kit. My father would sometimes come home injured, lying to his colleagues because he didn't want them to fuss over him. So my mother and I had taken it upon ourselves to attend an advanced first aid class so we would know what to do when my Dad would neglect his injuries. I was especially grateful that I took that class now. Peter, being a spider-vigilante, got hurt sometimes. One day he was going to get hurt and not be able to treat his injuries himself...like tonight. I was prepared for those nights, and I was very glad. Peter couldn't go to the hospital for any injuries...he was freaked out that they would figure out he had powers and stick him in a lab to run experiments on him. So I became his personal doctor. Not that I'm complaining or anything.

I needed to take care of the gun wounds first, I thought. I knew how to do that. I certainly wasn't a professional...but I could get the job done. I pulled out some heavy duty pain medication. It probably wouldn't work for Peter, no medicine had worked when he got his powers, but why shouldn't I try? I looked over to Peter, whose eyes had closed. Bending down by his head, I gently shook him awake. He made a grumbling sound before opening his dark coloured eyes.

"Here, lift your head up Bug Boy." I whispered, helping him do so. Then I gently administered the pain medication into his mouth. Peter made a face.

"Swallow it.' I said sternly.

To get to the wounds I would have to either take his suit off, or cut that part off. Since Peter was still freezing, I preferred the latter as to try to give him some warmth.

"Peter?" I called softly. Peter's eyes slowly blinked open, and it took him a second to get them into focus.

"Peter I'm going to have to cut off your suit." I murmured. He nodded,

"s'ok." He muttered, looking down to where I was about to get started. I would fix it for him later. I pulled out the scissors from the aid kit, I started with the wound on his thigh, knowing with the one on his calf I would have to take his boot off, which would definitely hurt. I cut away a decent portion of the spandex suit away, revealing the wound. Unfortunately, the bullet was still in Peter's leg. I took a deep breath, and poured some liquid disinfectant on the wound. Peter clenched the bed so hard his knuckles turned white. I counted 30 seconds, and then I pressed the excess disinfectant off with a soft cloth. I then grabbed the tweezer-like objects. I took a deep breath, for I knew this was the harder part. Peter had gotten shot before, but it never got any easier.

"Close your eyes Peter." I whispered. He blinked, and I pushed the tweezers into the wound, latching onto the bullet and pulling it out of Peter's leg. Peter screamed, tearing his head back, and attempting to curl in on himself.

"Easy, easy." I murmured, grabbing Peter's hand, and letting him hold on to mine like there was no tomorrow.

"It's ok." I reassured him, then resumed my task. I had to get it done quickly or else his accelerated healing would start up and I would have to break open the wound again.I poured some more disinfectant on the wound, and the stitched it up. It was messy, but it would work. Like I said before, I'm no professional.

Now for the other bullet wound. I took another worried glance at Peter, who was drenched in sweat dispite his face still being slightly blue from cold.

I began to search for a zipper. _Please. Make there be a zipper._ Make this easier. _A zipper!_ Great. That makes this 10 times easier.

I unzipped his right boot. His boots were almost to the knee, which just made it harder. I left the boot unzipped like that, relieved that it provided enough room for me to get the second bullet out. I cut away the spandex on that section, and repeated the process that I had done for the first wound. Fished, I zipped the boot back up, hoping the small amount of pressure would help ease some of Peter's pain.

I moved back up so I was next to his head, Peter's eyes staring distant and lifeless at the ceiling.

"Easy." I murmured. "I'm going to fix your chest wounds, ok?" I asked. He grabbed my arm, pulling me down to his level and gently kissing me on the lips.

"Ok." He whispered. I rolled my eyes. Attempting to flirt even when injured, I thought, ruffling his hair affectionately.


End file.
